davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19
8oltseho1l Aints.
FERN CULTURE.

Ferns are easily cultivated if few
practical details are observed. Growing
in their native habitats they are, for the
most part, found in shady positions,
where, during their growing period, they
have an abundance of moisture at their
roots; therefore, under cultivation, a
shady window is for most kinds more
suitable than a sunny one, and during
their season of growth good supply
of water at the roots is demanded.
While it is necessary for their success to
have an abundance OF water, they are at
the same time very impatient of stag
nant soil, and to prevent anything of the
kind occurring, perfect drainage is indis-
pensable. Not only is drainage a neces-
sity in the cultivation of ferns, but it is
also needed in the culture OF all kinds OF
win dow and greenhouse plants after they
have attained certain size. No plants
do know, except aquatics, that succeed
in soil from which the water does not
pass off freely. Plants growing in pots
5lA luCucS III uitLu0l0r duO over HuOGQ
have good drainage. This may be done
by placing over the hole in the bottom of
the pot piece Of broken pot, over this
place more of the same material in small
pieces, instead of this pieces of charcoal
answer we'll. Fill about one-fourth of
the pot in this manner, and over the top
place some moss or other rough material
to prevent the soil from mixing with the
drainage, and thereby preventing the
water from passing freely off.
The most suitable soil for ferns is
mixture of garden loan and the black
soil found in the woods, about equal
parts of each, then with good sprink-
ling OF sharp sand through the whole,
giving more if the loan is clayey and
less if sandy Vick's Magazine.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19

any cheer, in the daily life. At last, when
the wife became so feeble she could no
longer keep up the brave face and front
she had shown to the world for quarter
of century, and physician was called
in, who said to her: "Mrs.-you need
change of scene; your husband must take
you on Journey" she replied, 81 know it,
and AIR. is very kind. He will do
whatever must be done; but he never pro-
pofes anything. 1 have often wished he
would"
She had no intention of making
complaint. There was no fault finding
in her heart. But the involuntary re-
mark told story.
Fires we're low in that house, and
hearts chillier than they knew; all for
want of "kindlings."
There is text in the Christian Script
ures which is usually quoted as bearing
upon evil speaking, gossiping and tale
bearing; but it appears to me to be
equally pertinent to this subject of fire.
making, literal and metaphorical, the
warming up of hearts as well as hearths.
And why should not the end of a sermon
be as good place for the text as the be-
ginning? A better one, for one reason;
for cannot it be far more clearly seen
then whether it suits the sermon or not?
This is the text:
"Behold how great matter little fire
kindleth. THE Christian Union.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19

the Plymouth settlement, they had the
eagacity to send Winslow with his friend
Hobbomock and another doctor to the
ailing king. They found the kings
house at the village of Pokanoket crowd
ed with wsiling women and pow-wows
performing nominations, and making
such hellish noise" remarks the witty
Winslow, "as distempered MS that were
well, and therefore unlike to ease him
that was sick" Winslow prevailed on his
majesty to swallow ga CONNECTION of many
comfortable conservee," and Massasoit
speedily recovered, much to the amaze
ment OF his people, who believed him dy-
ing. Full OF gratitude, exaggerating
slight kindness as generous natures are
apt to do, Massasoit advised Winslow of
the Massachusetts intentions and endeav-
ored to smooth matters out.
The Pilgrims, prompted doubtless
by the savage sagacity of their captain,
Miles Standish, resolved to champion the
cause of their Wessagusset brethren, and
get ahead of the conspiracy by striking
the first blow. So Captain Standish,
with only eight companions, set forth for
Wessagusset to protect the people there,
and especially to get the head of one of
the chief conspirators, Wittawamut, a not
able, insulting villain. The Massachu-
sets we're perfectly aware of this amiable
intention, for to Hobbomock, who had
come with Standisb, the paniesee Peck
suot declared that they had heard Stand
ish was come to kill them, but they would
not shun him, and he might begin when
he dared.
The gallant captain waited few days,
hoping to get good many together into
the shambles of his strategy. But the
braves were too wary; one at time they
would come and insult the stout little
hero of Holland wars, but not in num-
bers. Finally, however, Standsh with
his company contrived to entice Pecksuot,
Wittawamut, Wittawamut's brother,
boy of eighteen, and another Indian into
the room, where the Standish company
neatly knitted them, except the boy
whom Standish hanged, e1empH gratia.
After killing few more "red devils
round about, Standish broke up the Wes-
sagusset settlement, and accompanied by
most of the settlers, returned to Plymouth
with the quarry of his hunt, the head of
Wittawamut which the Pilgrims fastened
on the front of their fort, amid general
rejoioings. But when the gentle John
Robinson, their former pastor in Holland,
got tidings OF this tragedy, he wrote re-
gretfully in reply: would that you had
converted some of them before you had
killed anyr
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19

to be passed. "Not with Christ" was his
answer. He spoke to all his children
with affection and hope. Samuel Brad
burn sat up with him the night but one
before his death. His mind was calm as
summer evening. On the Saturday all
the family stood round his bed. The last
words which they could catch from his
lips were: "Lord, my heart, my God!'
With his hand lying in his daughters
the old saint passed home SO gently that
the watchers did not know when the
spirit fled. 1t was afterward ascertained
that John Wesley was in Shropshire, and
at the moment of his brothers death
he and his congregation were singing
Charles Wesley'e hymn.
Zone army of the living God,
To His commands we bow;
Part of His host have crossed the flood,
And part are crossing new
-QuiUer.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19

netism, We will now speak of few scien
tlhc instruments in common use. We
will take up the compass first. By look-
ing back to ancient times we will see that
the compass was invented, according TO
the Chinese annals, at the very remote
date of 1884 B. O., when it is said an en-
peror by the name of How-ang-ti invented
an instrument for indicating the south.
1t appears that its first use was for tray
cling by land. 1t is believed that it was
used at sea for the first time about 300 A.
ID. The essential part of a compass is a
magnetic needle delicately balanced SO
as to allow it free swing on horizontal
axis. The circumference described by
the points of the needle are marked SO as
to show the directions north, south, east,
and west. In addition to the use of the
compass for travelling by land or sea,
when graduated little differently it can
be utilized for surveying. A first-rate
compass can be made by the youthful
experimentor by suspending an ordinary
steel knitting needle by split silk thread,
magnetizing and rebalancing it. IL the
needle is balanced before magnetizing it
will make what is called dipping
which is an instrument showing the dip
or inclination of terrestrial magnetism.
AS you proceed farther north the needle
becomes more perpendicular, while, if
you proceed south, the needle will be-
come horizontal at place called the
magnetic equator, which is near the geo.
graphical equator.
The optician, Robert Norman, of Lon
don, in the year 1876, invented and con-
structed the first dipping needle, and
ascertained the dip in London at that
time to be nearly seventy degrees.
We will conclude our evenings amuse-
ment with the magic eignboard. Having
traced seme letters with magnet on a
steel plate (of one-twentieth inch thick,
we show to our assembled companions
smooth, plain surface; you and I-who
are in the secret-quietly throw some
iron filings against the plate, when 10!
suddenly the letters invisible to mortal
eye appear written in letters of iron.-
Golden Days.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19
The 4ton1e Gire1e.
GODS ANVIL.

Pains furnace heat within me quivers,
Gods breath upon the fire doth blow,
And all my heart in anguish shivers
And trembles at the fiery glow;
And yet whisper, "As God willv'
And in His hottest fire hold still.
He comes, and lays my heart, all heated,
On the bare anvil, minded so
Into His own fair shape to beat it,
with his great hammer, blow on blow;
And yet | whisper, 'As God Will
And at His heaviest blow hold still.
He takes my softened heart. and beats IT.
The sparks fly Off at every blow;
He turns it DER and DER, and heats 1t.
And lets it cool, and makes it glow;
And yet 1 whisper, GAS God willr'
And in His mighty hand hold still.
Why should l murmur? for the sorrow
Thus only longer-lived would be;
Its end may come, and well, tomorrow.
When God has done His work in me;
So l say, trusting, "As God will!'
And, trusting to the end. hold still.
He kindles, for my profit purely,
Affections glowing, fiery brand;
And all His heaviest blows are surely
Inflicted by Master-hand;
So say, praying, Gas God willF'
And hope in Him. and suffer still.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19
NOT A SOULLESS CORPORA
TON
-QuiUer.

If corporations are soulless, as some
people claim, not all the officials are as
was evidenced in a pathetic occurrence
few nights ago. Daniel Frye, brake
man, in the service of the Chicago, st.
Louis & Pittsburg Railway, fell between
two cars of a moving train, the merciless
wheels crushing off both legs. The un-
fortunate man was removed to a comfort
able place at Bradford Junction. Being
told by the attending surgeon that he
could not survive the injury, he was ask
ed if he wished to send any message to
his family, and he replied that he would
not die until his wife could come to him.
The surgeon shook bis head in doubt
ing manner. The bleeding, helpless, but
conscious brakeman, knowing that every
one despaired of his life, again assured
them, this time more determinedly than be-
fore that he would foil the plans of his mas
ter, Death, until his wife in person could
receive his FAREWELL When Mr.. Charles
Watts, one of the superintendent of the
Panhandle system, received Geographic
advice of the accident and the dying
mans wish, he ordered his most expe-
rienced and courageous engineer to at
tach his locomotive to coach and con-
vey Mrs. Frye to the side of her husband
In ten minutes from the time the order
was given the Special left Logansport.
with the wife on board.
To Bradford Junction is 113 miles.
The night was stormy. Superintendent
Watts stood at the back OF the telegraph
operator, and in flashes of electricity Or
dered all trans on to sidetra Through
the darkness and the storm the Special
whirled upon its mission of devotion and
love. The villagers who hover around
depot stoves at way stations on winter
nights crowded out upon the platforms
and stood in respectful silence as the
mighty locomotive dazed both sight
and hearing for an instant only. Steel
rails vibrated under wheels which were
measuring over sixty miles an hour.
The engineer knew that God and good
road bed were in his favor. AS he backed
his driving wheels at Bradford station
his engine seemed as proudly conscious
of victory, as does the race horse when
leading under the wire. The brakeman
had kept his word. Husband and wife
embraced. Bystanders, Blinded by pity
ing tears, left the two alone for a
moment, only a moment. For with the
kiss and the farewell, the brakeman clos
ed his eyes and died. Chicago Mail.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19
THE MARRIAGE MONTH IN HoL-
LAND.

AAAN1s
OF the twelve months in the year, No
vember is reckoned, in certain villages in
Holland, to be by far the most important.
The four Sundays of this month are
known respectively as review Sunday, de-
cision Sunday, purchase Sunday, and
possession Sunday, names which suffi-
GENTLY explain the purpose to which each
is put by the young people. On the first
Thursday in November all the villages
turn out in their best attire to be pres
emit at the village fair and watch the re-
spective couples perform the country
dance, which is the invariable opening of
such events. On review Sunday the uu-
married girls and young men, after the
morning service, walk up and down, star
ing at one another to their hearts con-
tent. Having made up their minds whom
to select on the following Sunday, the
youths, with the politest bows magma
BILE, salute the fair ones and Judge from the
way in which the courtesy is responded to
whether success or defeat is to be their
lot. The third Sunday is devoted to the
less romantic task of obtaining the con-
sent of their parents, and arranging, in
business-like fashion, the details of the
marriage settlement. The stern hearts
of those in authority having been salts
factorily subdued, all the following week
the parson is busy in marrying, but not
until possession Sunday comes around,
are the happy betrothed permitted more
than an adectionate gaze or at most a
tender squeeze of the hand.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19
A COSSACK BURIAL.

Many touching little burial service
have l witnessed among the Cossacke,
but none more moving than one which
accidentally saw in the beginning of win
ter. We had been making a rapid for
ward movement, and had captured a pase
in the Balkans In the late afternoon.
after the engagement was over, was
making my way by short cut across the
bills to point where I expected to find
the headquarters, when 1 came upon a
singular scene. Near the top of bare
knoll, strongly relieved against the sun
set sky, three riderless horses came out
in sharp silhouette. A little to the right of
them, and on the very summit of the
knoll, two Cossacks we're STOPPING over,
busy with something; 1 could not see
what. The landscape, desolate, sombre,
and brown in the near foreground, deep
ened to intense purple in the middle dis
lance, and beyond and on either side of
the knoll, which was the dominant object
in the scene, the jagged mountain tops
sharply cut the w;ntry sky. The glory
OF rich sunset mystified the details of
the masses, while it seemed to sharpen
their contours and heighten their con-
trasts. 1t wss one of those evenings
when there steals into the mind sense
OF the solemnity of the hour almost
amounting to religious fervor, and when
one contemplates the departure of the
daylight with an inexplicable feeling of
sadness, and scarcely formed but still
vivid realization of the fathomless mys-
terry of the near future.
AS L approached the group the two
men rose to their feet, and, without look
ing in my direction, uncovered their heads
and stood motionless. Between them a
long, low mound disturbed the rounded
outline OF the hill, and rude cross made
of an unhewn tree trunk added its unex-
pected silhouette to the shapes of the
men, seen as irregular masses against the
deep crimson of the western sky. 1 in
voluntarily paused, and waited, cap in
hand, until their silent prayer was fin
lehed, and they had slowly turned away
toward the three horses; then, skirting the
knoll crowned by the mound and cross,
kept on my way. All that friendly hands
could do to honor the victim of the days
fight had been religiously done by his
two comrades. In the midst of the tur-
MOL of war he had been given decent,
dignifed, Christian burial. And what
more impressive funeral could there be
than the one I saw in the twilight of the
glorious Balkan sunset? The place, the
hour, the simple ceremony, the symbol
of Christian faith, and proof of comrades
love 1T was the poetry Of soldiers
burial.-F D. Millet, in Harper's Mag
Uzine
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19
PERILsroF OSCILLATION.

off l was woman and could see the
faults of my fellows as we'll as the aver
age observant man can, I'd form socie-
ty for the abolition of kissing. It's got
to come to that, anyway, within the next
ten years. All that keeps it alive is it's
qualities as foil for the genuine article"
SO very worldly and very bright little
woman told me in burst of frankness,
few hours ago. Said she, "If women didn't
kiss SO automatically and insincerely
they would know what the beauty of the
real kiss was" And 1 guess she was
right. Apemratus, my old friend of med
zeal procliVities and cynical instincts
growled when 1 asked him what he
thought Of it, and said Gan elegant die
seminator OF disease. Fever is spread
by it, so are lung troubles, and such
physical scythes as diphtheria, etc. I'd
drive kissing out of the land and save
one-tenth of one per cent of human lives?
every year-if life saving is the end and
aim Of science, which you know doubt"
Globe.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19
AIDS TO DIGESTION.

Meal time should be consecrated to
mental as well as physical good cheer.
(luiet serenity should Danish the ills of
the hours between. BY these means it
is certain that good digestion would wait
upon appetite, and, with this blessing,
we should all become better specimens
of humanity. There would be less self
ishness and a marked Improvement in all
that makes society delightful. With the
constant employment of the conversa-
tional powers, dull persons would be
small minority, and easy, graceful man
ners would become general. An author
ity in gastronomics gives this sound ad-
vice: "Study to acquire composure Of
mind and body; avoid agitation or hurry
of either one or the other, especially just
before and after meals, and while the
process of digestion is going on. Avoid
disputes or serious argument or unpleas-
ant topics"
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19
LOOK UP.

Look up the world is wide. On land and sea,
On ship or shore, there is no rust, no rest;
A heart throbs outward from each human
breast,
And moves it onward to its destiny.
What if its hidden doom must end in deathY
Why meet it bravely, with the honest thought
OF no good deed undone, no ruin wrought,
To kill the hope that soothes dying breath.
He no would soar from darkness into light,
And like Icarus, mount on waxen wings,
Will never reach and touch the golden
springs
That open the gates that close upon the night.
who rises lifting others up with him,
Is strong indeed. Within his cali or reach
Are hands that aid him-hearts that help
him teach
What he has learned himself and taught to
them.
We build our thoughts like mountains to the
clouds.
The mystery of our being still unsolved,
Save that we know our lives are not evolved
For the sole end of filling empty shreuds.
Boston Transcript.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19
OLD WORLD CITIES.

Alexandria sits demurely by the sea, an
Oriental maiden attracted to the sandy
shore of the Mediterranean to barter her
spices, silks, mats, with infdels, conclud-
ing to remain there and wander no more.
Jaffa lifts up her head from rocky
cliff, and with one hand salutes the Med
iterranean, and with the other welcomes
the caravans from Damascus and Jeru-
salem. Jerusalem is still the child OF
faith, dwelling where little grove, where
there is naturally little trade, or com
merce, or manufacturing; drawing her
supplies mysteriously from the rocks and
the skies; yet different races, different re-
ligions, different civilizations believe in
her and huddle together about her,
awaiting something that does not appear.
Jerusalem, sitting alone on the rocky
side of Judes, is the sublime child of
faith, coming of faith in the past, look
ing forward to the future by faith.
Damascus is the fair maid issuing from
the ALBANIA or Baroda, mysteriously
changing its musical waters into olive
groves, tropical luxuriance and teeming
population, and sitting in queenly robes,
with her feet in the sands.
Smyrna is the mistress Of two ages and
civilizations, reposing on quiet plateau
by the sea, welcoming the commerce of
the West, guarding the grave of Poly
carp and the manners and forms of the
East.
Constantinople at distance is the
slightest of the cities, but on approach
ing nearer you see she wears a mask, and
behind that mask you perceive restless
ness, discomfort, perfidy and sullen wait
ing for revolutionary chaos
Athens is the bride of the cities. She
holds in one hand broken marble point
ing to the ruins of her art in the heroic
ages-the art which has conquered the
woodland in the other the scepter OF
new springing power.
Naples, as we approach it by steamer
from the south and round the point, rises
apparition shrinking away from Vesuyius,
who holds smoking brand in one hand,
shaking it over her head, and yet afraid
to go in the other direction, as he thrusts
the other hand in his subterranean
pocket, touching the secret springs that
let off commissions in Ischia and the re-
gions beyond her.
Florence, one of the queens, reposes
half-asleep, half.awake, in beautiful
cradle of the Apeninnes, dreaming over
the splendors of the past, displaying still
a matchless profusion of art treasures,
and beguiling those who come under the
influence of her charms through the LADY,
rinths of plastic and painted beauty.
Rome, the attractive, the interesting,
the historic, the hider and the revealer of
the secrets Of her mother, the Mistress
of the World" sitting in royal way on
her seven hills-full as she is of art and
history-is nothing else, in form, so much
as she is saint. She Is the high priest
ess in her tent OF the cities of the earth.
Religion is scrolled upon her buildings,
outside and inside, on her streets, on her
calendar, on her garments. on her food
and manners. I do not know how far
this sainthood strikes in, or what it is
worth. I speak only of color-Anony-
NOUS.
The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-03-19

That every hour is filed with employment,
count no common blessing. The more
employment the better, since you are not do
ing your own will but the will - Him who
sent you.-JOhn Wesley
The Irish standard., 1887-04-09
THE WHITEBOY ACTS.

Not the least interesting clause of
the coercion bill now before the British
House of Commons IS the third one,
which. among other things, provides for
the re-enactment of the Whiteboy acts.
The necessity for such provision ex-
lists only in the minds of Salisbury and
his bloody and brutal associates. Moth
ing could be better calculated to ex-
asperate Irish people into committing
acts of violence than this attempt to
bring the peaceful methods adopted by
the Land League into disrepute. White
boyism was never countenanced by
Irishmen who had the welfare of their
country at heart, and in the main can
not be said to have had much bearing
5on. the questions affecting Ireland in It's
day. ID!
81 the benefit Of the younger gener-
aHons ofs Irish meric leans, who may
The Irish standard., 1887-04-09

THE meeting held in ST. Paul last
Sunday afternoon to take steps to-
wards holding mass meeting in that
city to protest against the Tory coercion
bill may be accepted as evidence that
the patriotic fire in our sister city is
still at a white heat. The speakers
were Attorney Lawlor, 2. Hogan, Judge
McCaferty, Capt. Fahey, Mr.. DAILY and
J.C. Hanley. AS might be expected
from such a brilliant array of talent, the
speeches were all Of a high order, and
as a result meeting will be held
shortly under the auspices of Branch
40 of the Irish National League. The
following committee on resolutions was
appointed, with full power to act and
to present and publish the resolutions
as soon as prepared: Messrs. O'To0le,
Lawler, cCaHertY, Hogan and Fahey :.